


The Box of Shame

by Of_Princes_and_Savages



Series: Fake Fiances and True Love [8]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Family Fluff, Fluff, Gen, and a surprise at the end, baby stuff in a box, no good tags for this, nothing but fluff, there's like a drop of plot for binder
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-21
Updated: 2018-02-21
Packaged: 2019-03-21 22:49:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,292
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13750833
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Of_Princes_and_Savages/pseuds/Of_Princes_and_Savages
Summary: While at a lunch at the Gold house, a box arrives and Emma is the only one that knows,-to her horror,-why it was delivered...





	The Box of Shame

**Author's Note:**

> As part of my "I have writer's block and am not happy about it" series, BarPurple has prompted: Fake fiance and true love prompt - Emma signs Belle and Gold up for a expecting parents website. Neal is seriously freaked out by the free samples that are arriving at his dad's house/shop
> 
> Enjoy!

Emma made very bad decisions when she was drunk.

This wasn’t a statement, it was a fact. Seventeen years old, making out with Charlie “Mono-Man” Perry? Bad decision. Twenty-two, cutting off all her hair because it felt hot? Bad decision. Twenty-four, singing karaoke at a Halloween party and trying to do a stage-dive? The only bad decision to earn her a cast, actually, but still, _bad_ _decision_.

And now she could add one more thing to the list at the age of twenty nine…

Neal’s dad was trying out some recipes for a bake auction. That sounded really odd the first time you heard it, but it was sort of a fancied-up bake sale for the charity function where mainly rich snooty people would be showing off who could spend the most…according to Mr. Gold. The cause was education or literacy or children, something vaguely academic that required the setting to be the library. Belle was just happy to be getting the extra funding at long-last, and was so eager to help apparently she forgot she couldn’t bake to save her life.

“I’m not helpless in the kitchen,” Belle told her while setting the table for their lunch. “I can cook well enough, but I’m not a baker. I can’t even make those refrigerated cookie dough cookies right, I always overbake them.”

Lunch was sandwiches, something vaguely nutrious that wouldn’t interfere with eating slices of cake and sampling cookies. Emma could almost see where Neal’s love of cake was both genetic and fostered, both due to Mr. Gold himself. Maybe she should ask if Neal had the ability to make that lemon poundcake at home or not–

There was a knock at the door that made her freeze mid-chew. Who would be knocking at one in the afternoon on a Saturday?

Belle went to the door. She was gone just long enough that Gold stood up to follow, and Belle returned with a white cardboard box in her arms. And a very confused look on her face.

“Mr. Spratt said someone dropped this off at his house by mistake,” she explained, setting the box on the edge of the counter, having to stand up on her toes to get it up there. “It’s got the right name on it, see, but the wrong address number.”

“Who’s it from?” Mr. Gold frowned down at the box.

“Um…I have no idea.”

Neal, being Neal, shook it a little. Nothing rattled inside, so he got up to find a knife or something to cut the packing tape. Mr. Gold looked to his wife. “Did you order anything, sweetheart?”

“No, I was going to ask you that. Maybe they got the name on the box wrong, not the address?”

“Only one way to find out!” Neal said, coming back with a pair of scissors. “Let’s open it up and see.”

Emma agreed and moved some of the plates aside so there was more room to work with. Neal slashed through the tape and unfolded the flaps, peering inside for just a moment before shutting the flaps quickly.

“Uh…Pop?” Neal asked. “Is there something you’re not telling me?”

“What? No. What’s in the box?”

“Belle? Is there something you’re not telling Papa?”

“No, what’s in there?” Belle managed to push Neal out the way enough that she could open the box up for herself. Her eyebrows rose up with surprise and her mouth fell open just the slightest bit.

Okay. Emma had to know what was in there. She wondered from Neal’s reaction if it were perhaps a box full of…um…adult toys, but when she leaned over Belle’s shoulder she realized it was much worse than that. So _much_ worse she was frozen, gawking at them, when Mr. Gold finally saw what was in there.

“What in the world is this?”

“It’s…baby stuff?” Belle blinked, hesitantly reaching inside to pull out a small package of wipes. Which the packaging promised were gentle on baby skin. “Lots of little baby things?”

“Well that rules out Mr. Spratt,” Neal muttered, reaching over and pulling out two bottles of baby soaps. “I hope…what the hell is this? Soap, shampoo, wipes, are those _baby_ socks?”

Emma was afraid to touch anything, but Belle carefully plucked out the tiny cotton socks out between her thumb and forefinger. “Yes, yes they are.”

Mr. Gold saw the envelope before anyone else. He tore it open and took out the letter that was probably supposed to have a handwritten feel, but was obviously from a printer, and read aloud; “Dear Mister and Belle Gold, we here at Little Miracles are happy you’ve chosen to explore options for the care of your baby with our service. Included is a selection of goods from several popular and successful brands, and a catalogue in case you or the baby have any other needs in the future-”

“Oh, I get it,” Neal said, sounding mildly shell-shocked, “it’s like Amazon for babies. So…that’s a thing.”

Emma kept her mouth firmly shut, praying nobody looked at her because she was certain she had guilt all over her face. Compared to, say, murder, or identity theft, sure, this was mild. But oh god, was it embarrassing.

A few weeks ago, Neal had walked in on his father and Belle…in a delicate situation. He’d been flustered about it, the first time Emma had ever really seen Neal Gold flustered, and it was kind of funny how weirded out Neal was about the idea of them making babies. And apparently it was funny enough that when Emma was persuaded to not be the designated driver, after Elsa dropped her off at her apartment, she’d still thought it was funny and turned on her laptop.

The next morning she found the website in her browser history, of course, and quickly tried to cancel her order. What was Drunk!Emma thinking? That it would be funny to sign up the Golds for this sample service provided to expectant parents? This wasn’t funny, and Emma made a silent vow to never, _ever_ drink again. She had recieved confirmation that it was cancelled, but…maybe there had been a slip up somewhere along the way?

Mr. Gold looked carefully to Belle, who was still holding the little socks. Only…less like they were a tarantula. “I didn’t order this… and you didn’t order this…?”

“No…” Belle bit her lip shyly, looking up at Mr. Gold through her lashes. “No I didn’t, but…um…m-maybe someday?”

Emma held her breath for a second.

Mr. Gold gave Belle a tiny, affectionate smile, leaning in to kiss her temple. “Someday, maybe. Soon.”

Neal wrinkled up his nose, but without much disgust. “Can ‘soon’ maybe not be ‘today’, exactly? I don’t think I could look a baby in the eye knowing they happened right after Emma and I left you two alone.”

Slowly, Emma allowed herself to breathe again. Okay. Okay. It was okay, no harm done, phew. Now all she had to do was burn her credit card bill and never touch alcohol again.

She helped box up the baby stuff, which Neal said he’d take with them. His friend Mulan’s _friends_ , Aurora and Phillip, were having a baby in six months, and they’d be most likely to put this stuff to good use. He seemed comfortable with the idea of having a baby sibling someday “soon”, and maybe in ten or twenty years, Emma would tell him what her drunk self did and they’d get a laugh out of it…

* * *

**_Five weeks later…_ **

“Uh, Neal?”

“Yeah?”

“You know how you said you’d made peace with having a kid sibling?”

“Yeah, why?”

“How would you feel about having just _a_ kid, period?”

**Author's Note:**

> Mwahaha, welcome to the world fetus!Henry.


End file.
